Star Wars: Survivor's Quest

CHAPTER 26

The move was so smooth and quiet that for that first half second no one in the bridge even seemed to notice him. Luke took that moment for a quick assessment of the situation: ten Vagaari dressed in brown uniforms standing or sitting at various of the multitude of control consoles, the huge transparisteel viewport in front of them still showing the mottled sky of hyperspace, the big status board curving around the starboard bulkhead showing three more minutes to breakout.

And then the Vagaari who had been working the blast door controls suddenly focused on him and managed a strangled gasp.

The aliens at the consoles spun in their seats, goggling. Luke lifted his lightsaber and ignited it; and abruptly, every one of them hauled out a blaster and opened fire.

Most of that first panicky volley went wide. Luke easily blocked the three shots that had been accurately aimed and, mindful of the critical equipment filling the room, took care to send the deflected shots directly back to their sources. The next volley was even more poorly aimed as the surviving Vagaari, suddenly recognizing the danger they were in, scrambled for some semblance of cover. Luke took advantage of the unintended lull to send the Vagaari operating the blast door controls sprawling to the deck, reaching out to the Force to key the door open again. The rest of the Vagaari, now crouched beside consoles or behind chairs, opened fire again; a flurry of shots later, two more of them lay sprawled on the deck. Behind him, Luke sensed Mara sprinting to the archway to assist—

"Amacrisier!"

Abruptly, the firing ceased. Luke held his stance, senses alert. "You are remarkable warriors indeed, you Jedi," one of the Vagaari said calmly from midway across the room as he holstered his weapon. "Had I not witnessed it myself, I would not have believed it."

"Everyone needs a little amazement in their lives, Estosh," Luke commented. "You look good in that uniform."

"I appear now as I truly am," Estosh countered, straightening up proudly. "Not the pathetically eager drone I made myself to be."

"It was a nice performance," Mara commented as she slipped in through the doorway to stand beside Luke. "I do think you overplayed it a little, though."

"No matter," Estosh said, starting to stroll casually across the bridge. "It fooled you all into thinking we were harmless. That was all that mattered."

"Actually, you didn't fool everyone," Mara corrected him. "Aristocra Formbi was on to you right from the start."

Estosh stopped short. "You lie."

Mara shook her head. "No, but go ahead and believe whatever you want. So. You've got your droids, and you've even got yourself a Dreadnaught to carry them in. What's the rest of the plan?"

Estosh's mouths twisted. "Again you choose to let your female carry out your interrogation?" he sneered at Luke as he resumed his pacing.

"She's just making conversation," Luke said, feeling his forehead creasing. Estosh wasn't just pacing aimlessly, he realized suddenly. He was heading somewhere specific.

"Speech is for drones and prey," Estosh said contemptuously. "The conversation of warriors is in their actions."

"We like to think we're pretty good at both," Luke said, wondering what the other was up to. One of the Vagaari who'd been killed in that first volley was sprawled across a console in Estosh's path; the helm, he tentatively identified it. Could the dead Vagaari be carrying a special weapon Estosh was hoping to get hold of? Or was there an important course change he wanted to make?

Alternatively, there were two live Vagaari glaring silently at the Jedi from twin consoles a little farther along the same projected path. Could Estosh be hoping to drop down behind them, using them as living shields while he did something clever?

Either way, it was time to put a stop to it. Luke shifted his weight, preparing to head off on an intercept path—

"Let him go," Mara murmured from beside him.

Frowning, Luke glanced at her. There was a gleam in those brilliant green eyes, a microscopic smile creasing the corners of her mouth. She flicked her eyes briefly toward his, and crinkled her nose significantly.

"True warriors do not care if they talk well," Estosh said scornfully.

Luke turned back to Estosh, running through his Jedi sensory-enhancement techniques. The Vagaari's meaningless tirade grew painfully loud in his ears, but Luke wasn't interested in sounds right now. Inhaling slowly, he sorted though the drifting aromas of age and dust, human and Vagaari, searching for whatever it was Mara had already spotted.

There it was; very faint and distant. He inhaled again, trying to identify it...

And stiffened. It wasn't the distinctive tang of explosives, as he'd expected, but something far more virulent.

Poison.

Not just any poison, either. The acidity of the scent betrayed this as a corrosive poison, one designed to burn straight through the protection of a breath mask or atmosphere filter and then do the same to the victims' lungs. It was a last-ditch weapon, lethal to defender and attacker alike, used only when defeat was inevitable but allowing an opponent victory was unthinkable.

He sent a quick, furtive look around the room. There were Jedi techniques for detoxifying poisons, techniques he had successfully used a number of times in the past. Problem was, they generally didn't work against corrosive poisons like this one. The acidic matrix meant that both detoxification and healing techniques had to be used simultaneously, something that was nearly impossible for even an experienced Jedi to do without losing control of one or the other procedure.

And the poison could be concealed virtually anywhere on the bridge, remote-triggered by any of the Vagaari. With the traces he and Mara had detected already filling the air, there was no way for them to track it down to its source.

He looked questioningly at Mara. She nodded, that gleam still in her eye, and for an instant their minds touched, possibilities and contingencies and plans swirling wordlessly between them.

"—who have no strength or cunning of their own," Estosh continued, still strolling along on his random-looking walk.

"Oh, I don't know," Mara said. "I'll grant you have a fair amount of brute strength, but your level of cunning is pretty pathetic. Aristocra Formbi knew about you from the start; and Luke and I know all about the fighter carrier you left at the Brask Oto Command Station."

"The point being that you're outgunned and outmaneuvered," Luke said, picking up on Mara's cue. If they tried to negotiate with him, he would be less likely to suspect they were also on to this last-ditch effort of his.

And if he could actually be persuaded to surrender, so much the better. "So you might as well give up now," Luke went on. "If you do, we'll promise you and your people safe passage outside Chiss territory."

"Your remaining people, that is," Mara added. "Take too much time arguing the point, and that number's likely to shrink some more."

"Perhaps," Estosh said, coming to a casual stop in front of the helm console. "But perhaps none of us expect to leave this vessel alive anymore."

He leaned forward with his forearms resting on the front edge of the console, his hands dangling casually a couple of centimeters above the controls. "Perhaps the future glory of the Vagaari Empire will be a sufficient payment for our efforts."

"No," Luke said quietly. "You won't even get that."

"We shall see," Estosh said. He took a deep breath, straightening up to his full height. As he did so, his fingers dipped suddenly to the controls beneath them. There was a quiet beep; and a second later, the hyperspace sky flowing past the viewport turned into starlines and then into stars.

In the distance, Luke could see the lights of the Brask Oto Command Station directly ahead. The station, and the faint glow of a hundred starfighter drives spiraling around it. Even as he felt his throat tighten, he spotted the multiple flash of laserfire.

"The victory is ours," Estosh said calmly. He lifted his arms toward them. "And now," he added, "you will die."

He clenched his hands into fists; and from each of his sleeves a thin spray of pale green mist shot outward.

"Go!" Mara snapped, jumping sideways toward the red-rimmed emergency cabinet fastened to the wall beside the blast door.

Luke took a deep breath, holding it as he charged through the maze of control consoles toward Estosh. The two Vagaari nearest their commander, he noted, had already slumped over, twitching violently with the effects of the poison. He angled to the side; Estosh responded by shifting his arms to aim the spray more directly toward Luke's face. Clearly, he too was holding his breath, hoping to live long enough to watch his enemies die.

With a suddenness that startled even Luke, Mara's lightsaber flashed past overhead, spinning its way across the bridge. Reflexively, Estosh ducked, his head turning to follow the weapon's motion.

And as he looked away, Luke took a long step toward him, ducking low to stay beneath the poison spray. With two quick slashes of his lightsaber, he sliced open Estosh's sleeves and the gas canisters strapped to his forearms.

With an explosive poof! the directional spray became a billowing green cloud as the entire contents of the canisters were dumped at once. The fog enveloped Estosh's head, roiling outward as Luke took a long step backward. Estosh spun back toward him, his face nearly invisible behind the cloud, his body starting to twitch and contort as the acid burned his skin and the poison worked its way into his lungs despite his efforts to keep it out. For a moment his eyes locked with Luke's—

And then, across the bridge, Mara's thrown lightsaber hit the transparisteel viewport, slicing it open.

In an instant the bridge became the center of a windstorm as the air streamed violently out into space. The expanding poison cloud swirling around Estosh was whipped away with the rest of the atmosphere, turning into thin green tendrils as it was sucked toward the gap. Behind Luke, reacting to the sudden loss of pressure, the bridge blast doors slammed shut.

The twisting vortex blew Estosh off his feet, dumping him to sprawl onto the deck. He turned around to face Luke, hands scrabbling desperately and uselessly across the metal, his face a mask of pain and hatred. "Jedi!" he spat out hoarsely, his last breath a curse.

But Luke was already gone. Even as the windstorm erupted around him he began leaping over and around the control consoles, letting the wind at his back add to his speed as he raced across the bridge toward the hole Mara had cut. Her lightsaber was bouncing precariously along the edge; reaching out with the Force, he closed down the weapon and drew it back to him, jamming it into his belt alongside his. His lungs were starting to ache as the air pressure dropped nearly to zero, and he again stretched out to the Force for strength. Reaching the viewport, he skidded to a halt beside the crack and spun around.

Across the room, Mara had the emergency cabinet open, one hand poised on the oxygen lever, the other holding a patch kit. At Luke's nod she pulled down on the lever and sent the kit spinning through the air into his outstretched hand.

The gale, which had subsided to a faint whisper, began to pick up again as the oxygen tanks across the room flooded more air into the escaping flow. Luke counted out a few more seconds to make sure all of the poison gas had been flushed out, then pulled open the patch and slapped it across the hole.

There was a sizzling sound, more felt than really heard in the painfully thin atmosphere. The swirling wind subsided, and he felt the air pressure returning to normal. He exhaled the rest of the air he'd been holding in reserve and took a cautious breath. There was just a residual hint of the poison, drifting through the bridge like a bad memory, far too dilute to pose any danger.

He looked around the bridge. The Vagaari lay across their consoles or in contorted poses on the deck. All were dead.

He sighed. Jedi respect all life, in any form...

"Snap out of it, Luke," Mara called. "We've still got work to do."

Luke focused on her. She was leaning over the helm console, the one Estosh had made such an effort to reach before he died, working feverishly at the controls. "Right," he said, coming toward her. "What did he do there?"

"Exactly what I thought he would," Mara told him, and he sensed her grim satisfaction as she straightened up. "Okay, I caught it in time." She nodded at the viewport. "Now we just have to figure out what we're going to do about that."

Luke turned and looked. During the past few minutes, Estosh's final helm command had continued to drive them toward the Chiss command station.

And from their new vantage point he could see that the defenders were in desperate straits. The Vagaari fighters swarming around it were as maneuverable as X-wings, but with considerably more firepower, and they whipped around the base in a complex dancelike pattern that made them nearly impossible to hit. So far the base's shields were holding, but from the methodical way the fighters were hammering at it he knew it wouldn't be long before they'd battered the defenses down far enough to begin causing serious damage. Off to one side, drifting along outside of the attack pattern, was the Vagaari colony ship, looking like a strange spherical skeleton now that its brood of fighters had been launched.

"And that's after only a few minutes of combat," Mara murmured. "These guys are good."

"The beeping console in the anteroom?" Luke asked.

She nodded. "It was the comm monitor, indicating a signal being sent out from the bridge," she confirmed. "It had to have been Estosh's attack order." She shook her head. "No wonder Formbi wanted an excuse to launch a campaign against these people."

"I don't think they'll need more of an excuse than they've already got," Luke declared, crossing to one of the weapons stations. "Can this thing still fight?"

"What, against ships that small?" Mara countered. "Not a chance. Certainly not with just the two of us to run it. Besides, all we're likely to have are the anti-meteor laser cannon and maybe one or two of the smaller point-defense stuff. Thrawn demolished all the heavy weaponry fifty years ago."

Across the bridge, one of the consoles pinged, and a Vagaari voice began speaking faintly from its speakers. "They've spotted us," Mara said, stepping toward it. "You have anything you want to say to them?"

"Just a second," Luke said, an idea popping into the back of his mind. "No, don't answer. Find me a sensor station and tell me what's happening with the Vagaari carrier."

He sensed Mara's puzzlement, but she headed off across the bridge without comment. Luke went the other direction, toward where the weapons consoles were located. Maybe Thrawn's attack had missed something.

But no. All the turbolaser and ion cannon status boards showed red. "Got it," Mara called, and he looked over to see her leaning over another console. "The carrier's in pretty bad shape, actually. Power output minimal; life support systems minimal; serious damage to its north and south poles."

"Probably where its own heavy weapons were," Luke said with satisfaction. "I was hoping the Chiss had gotten in some good shots before they were surrounded."

"Fine, but that still leaves the fighters," Mara pointed out. "And us with no weapons."

"We won't need any," Luke assured her. "Get back to the helm—"

He broke off as a stutter of laserfire raked suddenly across the hull just below and forward of the bridge. "What the—?"

"Chiss fighters," Mara snapped, grabbing the console for balance as the deck shook with another set of impacts. "At least twenty of them, coming in from behind."

Luke bit down hard on his lip. He'd had a perfect plan; only now here came the Chiss threatening to ruin it.

And maybe to blow the Dreadnaught out from under them in the process. "I'll transmit Formbi's message," Mara shouted as another volley stuttered across the hull. "If they believe it—"

"No!" Luke cut her off, looking around him. It had to be on this side of the bridge somewhere. "No communications, to anyone. Get back to the helm and get us an evasive course toward the station."

"What? Luke—"

"Don't argue," Luke snapped, crossing back to the turbolaser control console and looking at the consoles near it. "If we say anything to the Chiss, the Vagaari will know we can transmit."

"And that's a problem?"

"Yes, that's a problem." Beneath him, the deck started to sway slightly as Mara keyed in the evasive maneuvers he'd called for. "We need to look like a ship that can't communicate, where Estosh is still in command—ah," he interrupted himself. There it was, nestled between the ion cannon and forward deflector shield consoles: the anti-meteor laser cannon. "Keep us evasive," he ordered, keying the activation switches. The board shifted to green with gratifying speed. "Okay. What was Drask's emergency prefix code again?"

"Two-space-one-space-two," Mara told him. "And you've lost me completely."

"Just cross your fingers." The Chiss fighters were swinging around for another pass. Mentally crossing his own, Luke aimed the laser cannon just astern of the group and fired: pulse-pulse; pulse; pulse-pulse.

For a long moment nothing happened. The fighters completed their turn and regrouped, heading back for another strafing run. Luke fired the pattern a second time, again aiming just wide of the group. They kept coming; he fired a third time—

And then they were on him, flashing over the Dreadnaught's surface, pouring volleys of laserfire into the hull.

Only this time there were no thuds as sections of hull metal vaporized explosively away. No impacts; no shaking of the ship; no nothing.

"I'll be a roasted nerf," Mara breathed. "They've cranked their lasers down to minimal power. They figured out the message."

"And at the same time were smart enough not to give the game away to the Vagaari," Luke said, abandoning the laser console and heading off across the bridge in a search pattern again. "I could learn to like working with these people."

"They're coming around for another pass," Mara reported. "You want to keep it evasive?"

"Right," Luke confirmed. The console he was looking for... there. "Where are the Chiss fighters?" he called as he keyed for activation.

"Off our portside stern."

"Good," Luke said. "Bring our flank around to portside, as if we're running interference for the Vagaari."

"Got it."

The view ahead turned as the huge ship began rotating sluggishly to the left, and Luke shifted his attention to the attacking Vagaari. If they reacted the way every other squadron he'd ever served with would react under these circumstances...

He caught his breath. In twos and threes, the Vagaari were beginning to break off their attack on the station. "Keep going," he ordered, hearing the excitement in his voice. "Keep us between the Chiss and the Vagaari."

"The Chiss are firing again," Mara reported. "Again, just for show."

"Perfect," Luke said, his full attention on the Vagaari. They were definitely abandoning the station now, pulling away in an orderly fashion and forming up again as they headed away at full attack speed.

Moving straight for the Dreadnaught.

Mara had spotted the new maneuver, too. "Uh... Luke?" she said hesitantly.

"Trust me," he said. Reaching down to his console, he keyed a switch.

And deep beneath them, he heard the faint sound of metal grinding against metal as the forward starboard hangar deck doors slid reluctantly open.

Across the room, he heard Mara's huff. "You're not serious," she said. "You really think they'll just—? No."

"Of course they will," Luke said. "Remember, their own carrier is wrecked. What else are they going to do?"

He looked up as she stepped to his side. "You have got to be the most brazen con artist I've ever met," she said, shaking her head.

"Better even than Han?" Luke asked innocently. "Why, thank you."

"It wasn't necessarily meant as a compliment," Mara said. "That was a pretty serious risk you took."

"Not really," Luke said. "Remember, I know how starfighter pilots think. The rule is, any friendly port in a battle." He smiled lopsidedly. "And as far as they know, we're as friendly as they get."

Together they stood and watched until the last of the Vagaari fighters had come aboard. "There we go," Luke said, keying the massive docking bay door closed again. "Now we can send that message of Formbi's off to the station. I'm sure they'll want to be aboard to help us give the Vagaari pilots the bad news."

Station Commander Prard'enc'iflar was a tall Chiss with a generous helping of white in his blue-black hair and a highly intimidating look in his glowing red eyes. He was also, if Mara was reading the name and facial structures correctly, a relative of General Drask.

"We are grateful for your assistance in this matter," he said rather stiffly, his eyes mostly following his own people as they moved around the Dreadnaught's bridge inspecting the equipment. "It is evident now that Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano's counsel was well thought."

"Though I daresay you didn't think so at the time?" Mara suggested.

The glowing red eyes flicked briefly to her. "Past thoughts are irrelevant to the realities of the present," he said, looking away again. "You have aided us in the protection of our people and of our military secrets. That is high service from those who are not Chiss." He looked suddenly back at them again. "The secrets are safe, are they not?"

"Almost certainly," Luke assured him. "We had a chance to look at the communications log while you were coming aboard. Estosh made only that one transmission, and that was a short-range signal to his carrier here at Brask Oto."

"And he couldn't have sent anything earlier," Mara added. "Not from inside the Redoubt's natural interference."

"I see," Prard'enc'iflar murmured. "We will hope you are reading the data correctly."

Mara caught Luke's eye, sensing his wry amusement. For all his official gratitude, it was clear the commander privately wasn't all that impressed by humans and their abilities. Much the way Drask himself had been, in fact, early on in the mission.

It was time to give that attitude a little nudge.

"So what happens now?" she asked. "I mean, as far as the Vagaari are concerned?"

"They have committed multiple acts of war against the Chiss Ascendancy," he said flatly. "Even as we speak a strike force is being assembled, and scout ships are being sent to search for the enemy's location."

"That'll take time," Mara pointed out. "There's a lot of territory out there for the Vagaari to hide in. By the time you find them, there's a good chance they'll realize Estosh's team is overdue and fade back into the background hum."

"Have you an alternative to suggest?" Prard'enc'iflar demanded. "Or do the mind tricks Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano speaks of allow you to pull the location of the Vagaari base from dead minds?"

"Actually, we can't even do it with live minds," Mara said. "But we don't have to."

She pointed to the helm console. "The location is right in there."

"So that's what he was doing at the helm," Luke said, and Mara could sense his sudden understanding. "I thought he was just bringing the ship out of hyperspace."

"No, he was going for something more long range," Mara said, studying the confusion in Prard'enc'iflar's face. "You see, Commander, Estosh knew it was over as soon as we reached the bridge. He had a last-ditch weapon that he thought would kill all of us, so he figured that at least we wouldn't win. But even if he died in the process, he still wanted to get this ship to his people."

"So we let him key in an automatic course heading to take the ship to wherever their rendezvous point was," Luke said.

"Which is probably also where most of their heavy warships are waiting." Mara gestured again to the helm console. "Would you like me to pull the coordinates for you?"

For a long moment Prard'enc'iflar just stood there gazing at her. Then, with the twitch of a lip, he gave her a small bow. "Thank you," he said softly. "I would like that very much."